


Inspiration

by cherrypinup



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Blink and you'll miss it., Light Bondage, M/M, Very light.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrypinup/pseuds/cherrypinup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viggo broods. Viggo paints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inspiration

It's his shirt. That has to be why I was staring. It's quite eye-catching, though the body underneath is appealing by itself.

They all came over to my house today. I usually keep to myself more than the others but I'd been more reclusive lately. I know this bothers them.

The shoot is drawing to a close and I find that the need to draw myself away from them is much more real, much more immediate. The real world is going to intrude soon, and I need to break away from the family we've formed. I can't bear the thought of how far apart we'll all be in just a few weeks.

When they showed up with takeout and wine, I let them in. How could I resist the kicked-puppy looks everyone shot from the doorway? They're a bunch of manipulative bastards. I don't want to resist, really. I just feel the need to, for self-preservation.

I sat back, off to the side, and watched them. Not everyone was here. The hobbits and three elves were sprawled around my living room. We ate, enjoyed a few glasses of what turned out to be pretty good wine, and talked in a very relaxed manner. It felt nice. Safe.

Every once in a while, someone would draw me in to a conversation and I'd allow it for a bit, before lapsing back to being the voyeur. I think they've gotten used to it by now, so no one really forced the issue.

That's when my eyes were drawn to him. He'd managed to appropriate nearly the entire couch. He was lying with his arms crossed behind his head and his feet in one of the other's lap. Someone was telling a funny story, but I didn't hear most of it. I was too focused on the way his belly jumped with each laugh, the way the soft light of the lamps glinted off the silvery shimmer of a decal splashed across his chest.

I didn't realize I'd been staring until he sat up. My glance flicked up to his face and our eyes caught. So did my breath. The smile on his face was just a bit naughty and it took me a moment to realize they'd all been laughing. I gave a small huff of my own and that seemed to satisfy them. He turned back to the others again and I sighed. This is what I've been avoiding. I don't want to feel connected to them. It will hurt too much.

I excuse myself to the group before leaving the room. I make it as far as the sunroom I've made into a bit of an art area. Different projects are set up, most in various stages of progress, around the room. My easel is still waiting for me, from when they showed up unannounced.

I look at what I'd started hours before. It was crap, and I'd known that from the moment I started it. The way I was feeling was not conductive to expression.

At another loud laugh from the beautiful man lounging on my couch I look up. I can see in to the living room from this side of the easel, though the doorway obscures most of it. I can see him there, head thrown back, mouth open and eyes closed. The silver decal on his chest sparkles. I am completely entranced.

He's lying back again, relaxed against the arm of the couch. I can see him, from the arms behind his head, to just below his knees. It looks like he's the only one in the room. Inspiration strikes me for the first time in days.

I quickly move the easel and put up a new canvas. Grabbing a few things, and moving them to better reach from my new position, I take up the brush.

The rhythm of painting is very hypnotic. The only thing in my world right now are the brush in my hand and him on the couch in the living room. How I see him in the bright splashes of color on the canvas in front of me. I don't realize it's happening until I've already been sucked in.

~*~*~*

My hands are splattered with pin-drops of color. I reach for him. He's fallen asleep on the couch. The others left some time before.

I touch his shoulder, and then let my hand slide up his neck to his face. He's so soft. Even the slight stubble on his chin doesn't seem prickly.

His eyes flutter open and his smile is wicked. He touches my hand, but when I move back he holds on and pulls me to him. I don't have to follow the direction but I choose not to resist. The world feels strangely muted but the cloud surrounding me is not enough protection from the feel of his body against mine.

He blinds me with that smile again before pulling my head towards his. The first kiss is hard and quick and over much too soon. I moan at the loss and his deep chuckle sends shivers down my spine.

His agile fingers have managed to undo the button on my jeans before sliding up under the front of my shirt. They tickle slightly when his hands slide into my armpits. He pushes my shirt up over the back of my head and slides it down to my elbows, so my arms are trapped behind my me. He looks at me seriously until I nod that I'll let it stay there. He wraps his leg around both of mine and, with a bit of shifting, manages to flip us over and land on top of me. Now my arms are trapped underneath and I'm not sure I could get them out.

He unzips my pants and pushes them down to mid-thigh, leaving my underwear in place. Once he's satisfied with my state of dress he settles his ass directly on my erection. The pressure is - not unbearable.

With a waggle of his eyebrows, he does a bit of bump and grind to the music in his head. He plays with his nipples through that fascinating shirt and I wonder how it feels through the fabric.

After a short time he plays with me by lifting the shirt to bare a couple of inches of skin. When I start to shift around attempting to free myself he 'tsks' and pushes down heavily for just a second. I get the point and stop moving. It's all in his hands.

He grins again, but stops teasing so much. The shirt is slowly lifted until it's inside out and hiding his head. His skin is darker than I expected, but that could be the low lighting. His nipples are small and peaked. The patch of hair under his arms is crinkled and I have an urge to stick my face there.

I moan again when he lifts off of me. Standing with his feet on either side of my hips, he undoes his own jeans and pushes them down. He doesn't stop until he's completely naked. He's beautiful.

He gives me a moment to look before sinking back down on me. He lays full length on top of me. The feel of our chests together is so good but his naked erection rubbing against my cloth-covered one is sweet torture.

I open my mouth but before I can say anything he licks my open lips. That catches me off guard and I close trapping his tongue. I look in to his twinkling eyes then slip my own tongue out to play with his. He gives a moan of approval before his whole body explodes in to action.

His hands are running over every part of my body he can reach. His hips are grinding in to mine enough to push my underwear down a bit. The head of my cock is exposed and leaking all over both of us. His tongue is doing nasty things in my mouth and I am enjoying every second of it.

This only goes on for a short bit before he pulls back panting. He's got one hand on my chest and is glaring at me with hot eyes. I laugh and he glares harder before asking what's so funny. I don't answer with words but shift so I can look down at my own purpled cockhead, peeking out from the uncomfortable elastic band.

He follows my line of sight and 'tsks' again before scooting back and leaning down to lick the bit of pre-come while holding my stare. My breath catches in my throat and I feel lightheaded. That was probably the last thing I expected. Hell, this whole scenario is not something I expected to happen.

He swirls his tongue around the head while pulling my underwear down relieving the pressure. He slides them down to where my pants are and I'm as trapped as I would be if he used rope to tie me. The feeling of not being able to move is very releasing. It's not that I don't have to do anything. It's that I can't. There is no choice to make so all I can do is just lie back and feel.

The short licks up and down my shaft draw out moans as I shift restlessly under him. His hands are splayed across my stomach and they feel good mapping my body. It's been a while since I've been indulged like this. I throw my head back and hiss when he takes me in. His mouth feels moving up and down a few times before pulling off and down to lick my balls.

I lunge forward, as far as my bound arms will allow, when I feel something nearly cold drizzle down my cock. He's squatting down near my knees with that grin firmly in place. In his hand is one of the bottles we'd used at supper. It takes me a moment before I realize it's one of the crystal decanters of salad dressing, the olive oil.

I lay back down while he slicks me up with his hand. He slides himself up my body again; lying on me with his knees bent and tucked up into my armpits. We kiss with our mouths open and apart, tongues lapping against each other.

We have to disengage our tongues when he slides down. He sits back so my cock is in the crease of his ass, rubbing forward and back. Little strands of hair are sticking to his forehead and his eyes are bright. He is the sexiest thing I've ever laid eyes on.

He starts rocking and nudging until I am right at his entrance. Then he reaches back and holds me in place while pushing back. It's a tight fit at first and I'm not sure it'll work well from this position.

He pours the last of the oil into his hand and smears it into his ass. He moves me out of the way a bit and I can feel him slide one finger inside. I have to bite my tongue and squeeze my eyes tight to keep control. I can feel him moving his hand around a bit before he pulls out and re-positions me. This time when he pushes back, I slide in.

He only takes a moment to adjust. When he starts to move, I open my eyes. He has his head thrown back, like he did earlier when laughing, and is pulling hard on his cock while riding me. He seems to be lost in his own world but when his head comes forward and our eyes connect he's with me. We stare at each other.

He bites his lip hard when he comes.

The sound of the phone ringing penetrates the fog in my mind in time to realize it has stopped. I put down my brush and look at the previously empty canvas. I'm not quite sure what to think of the painting I've apparently finished while daydreaming. It's more passionate than what I've been producing lately. Maybe I should ask him to pose for me some time. He apparently inspires me more than the beautiful nature that surrounds me.

I notice that my hands are splattered with pin-drops of color when I reach for him. He's fallen asleep on the couch. The others must have left some time before and I didn't notice.

I intend to touch his shoulder but the shiny decal catches my attention again. It looks cool but when I touch it, it's body warm. His hand comes up and he laces our fingers together.

I look up to his face, and the sleepy smile he gives warms the parts of me I've tried to keep protected. He rolls to face the back of the couch with our hands still entwined. I don't resist the pull and lay full-length behind him in the small area allotted by his body.

As we lay drifting for a while, there is a peace inside of me that I haven't felt in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on 2/11/02. Edited to post here.
> 
> You can find me at [Dark Side of Fixtion](http://darksideoffitxion.tumblr.com/).


End file.
